Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tim wanted to go home.

There had been a Justice League all-hands-on-deck alert a few hours ago that brought almost the whole Bat-clan out into the middle of nowhere to fight aliens alongside the rest of the League.

Luckily, the actually fight hadn’t lasted long, the aliens apparently having a very exploitable weakness that let them be taken down easily once you got the trick of it, but that meant that by now the debrief was almost twice the length of the actual battle.

Tim was struggling not to let his boredom show, sitting next to his equally bored sibling and trying to project an air of bat-stoicism instead of so-bored-he-could-cry.

Why was he here? He’d barely even joined the fight long enough to throw a punch, but he was still stuck at the hours long debrief? Surely Bruce could let them go home and just fill them in on the important stuff later.

He glanced over at B.

Nope, Batman was also looking ready to tear out Green Lantern’s hair if he took much longer. There was no way he was going to let them skip out if he was stuck listening.

Tim was pretty sure Constantine was actually asleep, and Zatanna had to be using some kind of illusion because she hadn’t blinked in the last five minutes. What was he bet she wasn’t even listening? It wasn’t like the magicians would be getting much out of this. They’d been called in as well, but the aliens had far better defences against magic than technology, so there hadn’t been much for them to do.

God, Tim almost wished something else would attack, just as a break from the boredom.

Across the room, a shimmering, blood-red portal opened in the air.

Goddamn it, he said he almost wished! It was just a joke!

Sighing internally, he shot to his feet with the rest of his siblings, pulling out his staff and holding it ready to attack.

Out of the portal stepped a being. Bright red skin, curling black horns, seven feet tall. It’s eyes glowed yellow, missing any kind of pupil or iris, with what looked almost like trails of smoke rising from them. Its clothes were strange, all black and made out of some kind alien of material in a style unlike anything Tim had seen before.

Yet Tim somehow got the impression that the outfit was almost rumpled, as if it had been thrown on in a rush or worn for far too long.

It was holding a scroll of parchment in its hand, which seemed to be holding far more of its attention than the assembly of superheroes it had just walked into.

Tim might not be an expert in the supernatural, but he knew a demon when he saw one. In the corner of his eye, he could see that Constantine had gone pale.

It was a shock then when, instead of the magician, the demon turned its gaze unwaveringly onto Tim. Even without a pupil, he could feel the force of the stare boring into him. Not any of his nearby siblings, just him.

“Timothy Drake.”

All the bats flinched, imperceptibly. It knew, how did it-

“I have come to collect.”

What?

Before Tim could react, some invisible force tugged his wrists together, holding them immovably, as if tied. His staff clattered to the ground, the sound loud in the otherwise still room.

Tim tugged at his wrist, and then again more frantically as they refused to budge. He could feel the tension in the room climb as his movements got more desperate.

“What-”

Tim choked, and his bound hands flew to his throat, clutching at the collar he could feel had formed around his neck. His fingers were pushed away as a glowing chain sprouted from the front of the collar and grew, the end flying across the room to land implacably in the demon’s open hand.

“What the fuck is-”

“Silence.” The demon said offhandedly, and the words died in Tim’s throat.

He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, trying to force a word, a sound even, to leave his lips, but there was nothing.

He was really starting to panic now, his siblings and the rest of the league were looking at him in horror, while his mind spun trying to plan, to find a way out of this. What was happening? He’d never made any kind of supernatural deal, he wasn’t an idiot. He’d seen the fallout too many times to think it would ever end well for him.

The demon didn’t seem to care though, its eyes were back on the parchment, its body already halfway turned towards the portal. The chain connecting it to Tim was held casually in its hand, like it was off no consequence. Tim couldn’t take his eyes off it.

“Come here.”

Tim lurched forward, his body acting without his input. The chain around his neck had gone taught, pulling him forward and causing the collar to cut into his neck when he stumbled.

The crowd of heroes had unfrozen now, shouting and protesting, brandishing weapons and shouting threats at the demon, but wary of hitting Tim as he moved closer.

Tim stared desperately at them, his eyes wide and terrified behind his mask as he was drawn forward against his will.

Suddenly, there was black in front of him, strong arms pulling him to a stop. It grated at Tim, to stop moving, to disobey, like ants crawling over his skin, but it wasn’t enough to make him do more than mildly strain against the grip.

“Tim didn’t make a deal with you,” Batman growled, and Tim shook his head frantically. Damn right he didn’t, not ever. “You have no right to take him.”

The demon glanced up from the parchment, looking almost bored at the interruption.

“I have a contract with Jack and Janet Drake, promising me their firstborn child.”

What? No, no they wouldn’t…

“I have every right, you cannot stop me from taking what I am owed. Timothy, come here.”

Tim jerked, ripping his arm free in a move Bruce himself had taught him, and started moving toward the demon again. Batman reached for him, and Tim lashed out, throwing precise jabs into nerve clusters that left Bruce’s arm hanging limply.

Internally he was screaming, protests and apologies and pleas, but he couldn’t give voice to a single one. Externally he turned and walked to the demon’s side, collar tugging him forward.

When he reached the demon, Tim bowed, hands still clasped in front of him and head down while his mind was filled with panic.

“Good. Let’s go then.”

With no further ado, the demon neatly turned on its heel and walked right back through the glowing red portal. The chain went taught again and Tim started to move forward.

No, no way was he going through that thing, no, please, please, someone help, no, oh god, no please.

He struggled in vain to stop his feet as they brought him closer and closer. He tried to turn around, managing to twist his head to look back desperately at his family, face a rictus of fear and eyes pleading.

The league that had backed off when the portal first appeared were now too far to make it in time. Tim managed to hold himself still for the barest moment on the edge of the portal, watching his siblings running towards him, hands outstretched in a way he ached to mirror.

But it was too late.

With one last desperate look, the collar around his neck tugged sharply, yanking him into the portal, his family’s cries echoing in his ears.

---

Bruce was frozen, staring at the empty space Tim had just vanished into.

Tim.

His son.

Gone, just like that.

Stolen from him, with no warning, no way to plan, to prepare, to find some way to save him.

He should have been better than this, he should have had a contingency for this, he was always prepared and the one time it really mattered all he could do was stand there and watch as something took his child away from him-

He was broken out of his spiral by the sound of Jason’s fist crashing into the ground where he’d landed after trying to grab Tim. He let out a yell that warped harshly through the helmet.

“God damn it!”

A few of the other leaguers looked at him warily, they’d never really clarified his ex-crime lord status, but most were too preoccupied with what they had just witnessed.

A good half of his children were on the floor next to Jason, all of them had been running at the portal, diving to try and catch their brother when the portal had blinked out of existence, taking Tim with it. God.

“B?” Nightwing’s voice cracked, and Bruce could see the desperation in his eyes even through the domino mask. “B, what do we do?”

Bruce felt frozen. He didn’t know. He’d seen a few demons over the years but had never had to deal with something like this. Didn’t even realise this was a risk. A careless oversight, one he should have thought to correct years ago, before it cost him-”

“Father?” the quiet voice of his youngest, sounding so much more unsure than he ever let himself be in costume, interrupted his thoughts.

Ok. Now wasn’t the time for self-deprecation, regrets were no help to him now. Later, he could feel guilt, later he could try and become better, but right now his son needed him to save him, and his children needed him to make a plan, to give them a direction to follow.

“Constantine.” He barked. When you don’t have enough knowledge, find an expert.

The man slinked forward out of the ranks of the shocked Justice League. His normally rumpled appearance had shifted into downright haggard. He was trying to light a cigarette with obviously shaking hands. A breach of protocol, but Bruce allowed it today, the air filters could handle it.

“How do we get him back?”

Constantine exhaled a cloud of smoke, anxiously running his hand through his already messy hair. The man’s twitchiness was not filling Bruce with hope.

“Bats. Look, it’s not that simple. You might not-”

“This is my son you are talking about Constantine.” He growled, pinning the magician with a glare along with with every other bat in the room. “How. Do we get. Him back.”

“I- This stuff is complicated, alright? It works different for each deal. I’d need to see the actual contract, figure out which demon that even was. Cause it wasn’t a weakling, I’ll tell you that much for nothing. Where are the kid’s parents? I’ll have to talk to them, ask em a few things to even have a chance at figuring out anything else.”

Bruce grit his teeth.

“They’re dead.”

Constantine stared at him, taking a deep drag from his cigarette and exhaling it slowly.

“Well. Fuck.”

---

Tim stumbled, falling to his knees as his vision swirled, the red of the portal struggling to resolve into the darker shadows of wherever they were now. Before he got the chance to catch his bearings, the collar around his neck tugged him up and forward again, stumbling and nearly falling before he managed to get his feet under him.

As his vision cleared, he looked around, eyes wide and heart hammering.

The walls were a dark black stone, constructed with roughly hewn bricks that seemed to swallow the light of the flickering torches hanging in brackets, leaving deep pools of shadow. Normally, Tim would be a fan of shadow, as a bat, but these felt wrong, like they were waiting to swallow him along with the rest of the light. Hell, maybe they were.

There were no windows, no way to tell where they were, anything about the world around them, even if they were above ground or not.

The demon was ahead of him, not paying him the slightest bit of attention, the chain was held loosely in one hand, and the demon was completely focused once again on the parchment scroll, muttering to itself as it squinted at the writing.

Tim thought about grabbing the chain and yanking, pulling it right out of the demon’s hand, but his hand refused to even start the motion.

Up ahead of them, another figure rounded a corner into the hallway, stopping and bowing when they saw the demon leading Tim. They were also notably demonic looking, although much shorter than the first demon.

“Greetings, Lord-” They started, followed by a guttural snarl that sounded like it must have torn something in their throat. The demon, demon lord apparently? Nodded and responded with another horrendous sound.

“Is this the tribute?” The smaller demon inquired, tilting its head at Tim, who was not a fan of anything that was happening right now, not at all, especially not the way the demon lord nodded at the question.

“Would you like me to find somewhere to store it in the interim, my lord?” The new demon asked, hands clasped politely in front of it. Like Tim was just a piece of property to be chucked in a storeroom until needed. Which- he gulped, he supposed he was now. Although that begged the question, needed for what?

“No need,” the demon lord brushed off the smaller demon’s offer. “I will just send it in the dungeon.”

What.

Almost before it finished the sentence, the demon lord airily raised a hand and snapped its fingers, and Tim’s surrounding blurred again.

When he got his bearings, he was once again collapsed on his hands and knees, this time with bars in front of him.

He was in a cell, the walls still made of that same black stone, with an arched doorway cut into one of them, blocked off with rough iron bars. The only light came from a sputtering torch he could see down the hall when he pulled himself up and staggered over to the door.

The cell was small, maybe two metres at most on each wall. There was no furniture, just a bucket of water in one corner that was gradually filling with a plink, plink, plink sound from a drip in the roof. The floor was the same hard stone, nothing but some tatty straw to act as padding.

The chain around his neck had vanished, although the collar was still distressingly, unignorably present. And while he couldn’t see the chain or feel it connecting to the front of the collar, he could still feel that it was there. That even if it wasn’t present right now, it was still there, still connecting to the demon’s hand.

He tried to shove a hand through the bars, to search for the lock or, god, anything, but his hand stopped before it could touch the bars.

It wasn’t that there was something in the way, his fingers weren’t pressing against anything, his muscles weren’t straining against some obstacle. It was just that as soon as he got close to the door, the movement stopped, his muscles relaxed, refusing to even try to move any further.

Tim gritted his teeth, tried kicking the door, putting all his anger behind the motion. Same thing, it stopped before making contact.

With a frustrated snarl, Tim stalked the one step over to the wall and slumped against it, the rough stone scraping his uniform as he sank to the floor, hands twisted in his hair and teeth bared in a snarl even as his eyes started to prickle.

He had to get out of here, had to think. There must be some way out, there was always a way out, he just had to find it. He couldn’t- he couldn’t be stuck here, he’d gotten out of worse situations, hadn’t he?

Except-

Except even captured by the worst of his villains, he’d still had his soul. Never belonged to them no matter what they said. Sure, they’d trapped his body, some had even trapped his mind, at least for a bit, but none had taken his fucking soul from him.

He let out a sob, trying to muffle it behind his hand, desperately trying to blink away the tears that were running down his cheeks.

This couldn’t be it, there had to be something he could do. He had to get home, had to get back to- to his family. They must be freaking out, losing their minds trying to get him back. Maybe they’ll be able to rescue him. He just has to hold on. He hadn’t even got the chance to say goodbye, to tell them how- how much he loved them.

He doubled over burying his face in his hands, as sobs wracked his body, his shoulders shaking with the force of them.

This wasn’t fair! He’d been happy. Finally, after so much heartbreak, so much loss and pain and suffering, the family breaking itself apart and coming back together, everything finally felt ok, for one brief moment before it had been snatched away.

He howled, his grief and rage echoing off the stone walls, bouncing back on itself and harmonising with him until the scream tore at his throat and he broke off, coughing.

He collapsed onto his side, curling into a ball and sobbing, and desperately, fervently wishing that this was all a dream. That he would wake up, safe in his bed with his family downstairs.

It took a long time for the tears to stop.

He didn’t believe in wishes after all.

Chapter Text

Tim wasn’t sure how long it had been since he was thrown down here. Probably not too long, since he was still alive.

There was no clock, no sunlight, no guard rotations he could use to tell the time. He knew he’d slept, after his breakdown. Had woken up dehydrated and disoriented. But he had no idea if he’d taken a half hour nap or slept all night.

Now, sitting against the wall watching the flicker of firelight on the wall past the bars, he could feel time blending together. He normally had a very good internal clock, something Batman had trained into all of them, but he’d thoroughly lost the thread when he’d lost his shit earlier. The stress of the situation, the lingering terror and hopelessness, all of it made it difficult for Tim to focus enough to start his internal count again.

Plus, normally there was something to help him keep track. Even when captors would deliberately avoid a schedule, trying to keep him off balance, at least they were still there. Tim hadn’t seen a single person, or heard the sound of one, even faintly, since he’d been sent here. Not even from any of the other cells.

He was truly alone down here.

He’d drunk from the bucket of water in the corner.

Was it a good idea? No. Was it safe to drink? Probably not. Did he have any idea what kind of shit might be in water that was dripping through the ceiling of a demonic dungeon? No.

Did he have any other option? Also no.

At his best guess, he’d already been here for twenty-four hours. If they weren’t bringing him food, he couldn’t afford to be thirsty as well. He could deal with hunger, even if it was already clawing at his insides, he had a few more days before he would need to really start worrying. But water? He needed to take what he could get. Which right now meant suspicious roof water. Joy.

He sat there, leaning against the wall, for a while longer, when all of a sudden, his surroundings blurred, and he fell backwards through where the wall had been.

He blinked up at the unfamiliar ceiling for a second, until that stupid tugging returned to the collar and pulled him to his feet.

He didn’t recognise the room he was in, it was a much grander hall than anything he had seen so far, but it had the same black stone walls, so he assumed he was still in the same building. Same castle? Whatever.

In the centre of the room was another swirling portal, although this one was not the blood red of the previous one, but instead a bright, vibrant green. The demon lord and a few other, smaller demons were gathered in front of it, and Tim found himself being pulled towards them.

When he stopped in front of them, eyes downturned, the demon lord glanced over and levelled a finger in his direction, frowning.

“You. You are to be silent. Keep your head down and show the King your highest respect. I will not have you give that jumped up little ghost a reason to find fault with me, do you understand?”

Tim nodded mutely, no longer able to raise his head enough to see the face of the much taller demon lord. Internally, he seethed with fury at the iron hold the orders given in such a blasé manner had over him.

The demon lord exchanged a few more words that didn’t seem to in English with its subordinates(?), before stepping toward the swirling portal.

Tim was tugged along behind it, stomach churning with dread. Sure, the cell had been awful, but at least there he wasn’t being hurt yet. His track record with portals suggested that nothing good was about to happen as he passed through the new one.

Tim managed to stay on his feet this time, although it still took several steps before his vision stopped swirling and he could see the room they’d stepped into.

If he’d thought the hall they’d been in before was grand, this one put it to shame.

The floor was like walking on the night sky.

At first Tim thought it was simply a very polished black stone that was speckled with white, but as he walked, he saw a shooting star jet across the floor, could see nebulas and gas clouds that couldn’t possibly be rendered in simple stone. It was as if they were standing on an invisible sheet of glass, suspended over the cosmos itself.

It was dizzying.

The walls were carved of ice, that thick, opaque bluish-white ice that makes up glaciers and icebergs, not the simple transparency of an ice-cube. There were intricate patterns carved into them, more and more details appearing the longer Tim looked, swirls and fractals climbing the columns. Tim was pretty sure he saw both coiling leaves, and what almost looked like circuitry, among the other designs. Although he could be wrong.

There were windows, cut high into the wall, that looked out into a green sky, the same colour as the portal they had just passed through. Tim could just see them from the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t raise his head enough to look at them directly or see how high it was to the ceiling that he was yet to catch a glimpse of.

The demon lord led them across the room briskly, not giving Tim the chance to take in all the wonders he was seeing. The floor ahead of them gave way to ice steps, leading up, probably to some kind of dais. As they got closer, Tim could see the bottom of a chair and a pair of white boots, crossed over each other as if the wearer was lounging casually in the chair. Or throne? This was probably a throne, which meant the boots likely belonged to the mysterious king the demon lord was so annoyed by. He looked pretty solid for a ghost, but then what did Tim know.

Just as the figure’s knees came into view, the demon lord stopped and bowed deeply. Tim’s body dropped to its knees with no input from him, head still bowed.

Damn it.

Now he couldn’t see above the bottom step of the dais, forced to glare at the magical floor and the demon lord’s stupid pointed shoes

“Greetings, High King Phantom. I am honoured to be in your presence.”

“Greeting, Lord-” The king repeated the same name Tim had heard earlier, although it somehow sounded less harsh in the King’s voice, less like it was tearing his throat. “I admit, I was surprised when you requested a personal audience. Might it have something to do with the courtier of mine that recently visited your keep? I must say the report they sent me was very… interesting.”

The king’s voice was perfectly polite, smooth and mildly curious. But Tim had learnt that tone at his mother’s knee, and he could hear the malice in it. Whatever had been in that report, the demon lord was in trouble.

The demon lord laughed, perfectly politely and with not a bit of mirth behind it.

“Ah yes, it was so wonderful to get the chance to host a member of such an esteemed court as yours, my king. It has been many years since we had the privilege of welcoming a true ghost to our halls. As to the report, well I couldn’t possibly know just what in my humble keep they deemed important enough to inform you of. I assure you, we are but a simple estate.” They cleared their throat.

“However. In an effort to clear up any… misunderstandings that your most esteemed courtier might have had, I have come today to offer you a gift.”

The demon lord’s hand appeared in Tim’s periphery, gesturing down at him. His next breath caught in his lungs as his blood froze.

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

Actually, was being kept in some demon’s basement any better than being used to bribe that demon’s ghostly high king?

…what had gone wrong in his life that that was a serious question he needed to ask?

He shook his head to clear it- or tried to, god this collar fucking sucked- and turned his attention back to the two supernatural beings.

The king sat in silence for a long moment. Tim couldn’t see the look on his face but based on the way the demon’s shoes subtly shifted, he doubted it was good.

“A gift.”

Tim shivered, ducking his head a little further, this time of his own volition. Yep, that wasn’t good. He was pretty sure the temperature just dropped a few degrees. He really did not want to be here for this.

“Yes,” the demon powered on, not letting the nerves his shifting feet betrayed slip into his voice. “A noble soul. It is very strong-willed. Young and virtuous. A quality specimen.”

Hearing himself talked about like that made Tim want to throw up. It? A specimen? Really?

“And how did you acquire this soul? What did such a noble person need that you could provide?”

Tim was pretty sure he didn’t imagine the sneer in the king’s voice as he addressed the demon.

“That is what makes it especially desirable, your majesty. It never dealt with me, so there is no stain on its soul. I acquired it as payment from another deal. Its parents offered up their firstborn to me, and now I offer it to you.”

Tim can’t help the flinch at the reminder of how he ended up here. He crams the feelings that are threatening to rise up back into the depths. This is so far from the time or place to be thinking about his parents. He can’t afford the breakdown that would lead to.

“So, let me see if I understand you,” the King’s voice is frigid, and Tim can see a layer of frost creeping down the stairs as the King’s boots appear in his vision, floating slightly so they are just above the floor.

“I receive a report of illegal dealings in your keep. Of demon’s going against the laws that I have set in place, and doing so with your complete knowledge and encouragement, despite the warnings I have already given you.” The demon sputters at that but the king talks over the interruption.

“I receive this report, and as I am deliberating what, exactly, I should do with you, you decide cash in one of your debts. You decide to take what is presumably one of the purest souls your crooked deals have earned you and offer him up as a bribe for me to look the other way.”

As he talks, the King slowly descends the steps towards them, the frost creeping out in front of him and the temperature continuing to drop. Now, Tim could see the edges of the king’s cloak, the inside swirling with visions of stardust. The edges were brushing at his calves, swirling in the unnatural wind that had started to pick up in the hall.

The boots reach the bottom of the steps and stop in front of Tim. He still can’t look up. Can’t even shake despite the intensity of the fear running through him as he feels the weight of the king’s attention land on his shoulders. His breath fogs in front of him.

This man is dangerous.

“You have taken an innocent man from his home, stripped him of his agency. Given how still he’s sitting, you must have given him a number of orders before you came here, am I correct?”

“Y-yes, your majesty,” the demon lord actually sounded scared now. Tim would be pleased at that if he wasn’t also petrified.

The king hummed in response, before his boots shifted slightly, turning towards the demon and rising higher into the air, enough that he must be looming over the demon.

“Give him to me.”

Tim didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified, but he didn’t get the chance to decide before he felt the moment the chain changed hands.

He gasped as magic rushed down its length towards the collar, transforming rough and jagged iron into smooth, polished steel. It glimmered silver in the light and was pleasantly cool as it hit the collar, not frigid like he might have assumed.

Tim shuddered, feeling part of the weight on his shoulders dissipate. Not all of it, but enough that he could raise his head to look up at-

Wow.

The king was ethereal.

Pale skin, almost blue in the reflection of the walls, and glowing eyes the same green as the portal. His ears were slightly pointed, and his white hair floated above his head as if underwater.

Above his head floated a crown, wreathed in bright green flames.

Tim was entranced, his mouth hanging open. Thankfully, the king was still staring at the demon, who Tim could now see was practically cowering under the icy stare that made Tim shiver.

The king spoke again, snapping Tim out of his trance and reminding him to stop gaping at the terrifying creature that now owned his soul just because he was pretty.

“I think you should have done your homework more thoroughly before coming here, your lordship. Then perhaps you wouldn’t have made such a grave error. Mind you, you have made my decision so much easier, so perhaps I should be thanking you.” The king spoke casually, but there was no missing the intensity behind his words.

The demon actually stepped back, its eyes wide.

“Your majesty?”

The king made a show of inspecting his nails, claws really, effecting casualness as he answered.

“You should really know that I outlawed first born contracts early in my reign. Any contract really, were the soul promised in payment does not consent to the exchange. Before, I only had one report of your wrongdoings. A trustworthy one, but still, a single claim. I would have had to gather more evidence, be very careful if I wanted to put you on trial. You probably could have wiggled your way out, you’ve always been slippery like that. But now?”

The king looked up, a wide grin displaying his pointed teeth. The demon shrunk back.

“Now, you have defied my laws to my face. Dared to flaunt my decrees in my very own throng room, even. You have doomed yourself far more thoroughly than I ever could have.”

The demon paled, which looked very strange on a bright red complexion, and staggered back a few steps, eyes darting around. It spun on its heel, tried to sprint out of the hall, but before it could make it more than a few steps, the shadows in the hall swirled and another figure stepped out into the demon’s path.

The giant suit of armour wreathed in purpled flames grabbed the demon’s shoulder, forcing it to its knees and holding their sword against its neck.

The demon was alternating between pleading and screeching in fury, but it had apparently switched back to its native tongue, and Tim could no longer understand it.

The king evidently could, as he moved forward so that his back was facing Tim, who had twisted to watch the demon try to run. The king cut the demon off with a single raised hand.

“A formal trial will be held for you at a later date, but due to the wealth of evidence you shall incarcerated here until that time. Your keep shall be informed and investigated at the leisure of the crown. Any request to return you to your home will be denied. Fright Knight, take him to the dungeons.”

“Yes, my king.”

The purple figure bowed and turned, dragging the screaming demon with him into the swirling shadows and vanishing.

Tim gaped, staring at the empty space. Had that really just happened? The demon was just… gone? Imprisoned?

He was jerked back to the present as the king sighed, his shoulders slumping. He ran a hand through his hair as he dropped back to the ground and turned to Tim, a contrite smile on his face.

“Sorry about all that. Are you alright?”

Tim stared for a second before getting a hold of himself and jerking his head back down. Just because he’d hated being forced to do it didn’t mean he was too stupid to show respect to the crazy powerful supernatural king that now owned his soul.

“I- Yes, your majesty. I’m fine.”

The king waved his hand in front of him, looking a little flustered, but Tim couldn’t tear his eyes away from the chain held in the king’s right hand.

“Oh, you- please, you don’t need to-”

He seemed to notice Tim’s gaze and realisation dawned on his face.

“Oh, right. Of course, I’m so sorry. Here.” He held the chain out.

“…what?” Tim’s gaze darted between the chain and the king’s face. He couldn’t be serious, could he? But he looked sincere…

“Here. It’s yours.” He held the chain out further.

Tim hesitated for one more moment, then snatched the chain out of his hand before the king could change his mind.

The second it was in his hand, the whole thing dissolved into tiny snowflakes that hung in the air for a second before fading. The transformation sped up the chain and around the collar, dissolving it completely between one breath and the next.

Tim gasped, his hand flying to his throat, his bare throat, as he felt the weight that had settled on him the moment the demon first spoke finally dissipate entirely.

He looked up at the king, who was fiddling with the chunky ring on his finger and smiling at him.

“Thank you.”

The king rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed at the intensity.

“It’s no problem. He shouldn’t have taken it from you in the first place. Did he- how long did he hold you?”

“I- Not long,” Tim said, still trying to reorient his brain after the wave of pure relief he’d felt when his soul was returned to him. “Only a day or two, I think. It was- It was hard to keep track. He didn’t exactly put a clock in the cell.” He shrugged, trying to affect nonchalance although he was pretty sure he missed the mark.

“Did he feed you?” The king asked, looking concerned.

Tim shook his head, dropping his gaze again. One hand came up to wrap around his stomach without thinking about it.

“Well, let’s get you some food then. Come on- rise, please, you don’t have to kneel to me- we’ll go grab you something from the kitchen. We’ve got all kinds of human-safe food.” He snorted a little, like there was some joke in that statement.

Tim cautiously rose to his feet, returning the king’s smile and following him as he set off towards one of the doors.

“Thank you, your majesty.”

The king made a face at that, scrunching up his nose as if in disgust.

“Please, just call me Danny. You don’t have to use my title. Well, unless- but then you could just use Phantom, or-” He cut himself off again, smiling sheepishly at Tim.

“Sorry, there’s a lot of etiquette surrounding names. It can get a little confusing. Basically, when we’re alone or with people I trust, you can call me Danny. In public you can refer to me as just Phantom, I’m giving you permission to skip any of the other titles people normally have to use for me. If you’re not sure which one to use in a specific circumstance, just go with Phantom. Make sense?”

Tim nodded, feeling a little off kilter from the abrupt attitude shift. They’d left the throne room now and were making their way down a fairly unassuming corridor. Still castle-ish, but much less imposing. It was weird, like the second the demon left the king had dropped all the intimidation. Tim was hardly going to complain though.

“Yeah, I can do that. Um, is it normal to have a different name in public?” Tim was willing to bet that Danny was more likely to be the king’s real name, but then again, maybe that was just his own bias talking. It felt right though.

“It’s pretty normal here. Private names, or ‘true names’ if you want to be fancy, are important, so you don’t want to spread them around too much. People will generally make up a public name and use that for most situations

So, some kind of fae rules? Or was it like summoning a demon with their true name? Tim did not know enough about supernatural rules to navigate this conversation.

“Why? Can- can people do something with them? Or…”

The ki- Danny shook his head.

“Not normally. There’re a few exceptions, but mostly it’s an etiquette thing. Like if- I dunno, like if someone you barely knew just sat down next to you at a restaurant and started eating. It’s crazy presumptuous, and really rude, but not actually dangerous. Just wildly off-putting.”

Tim nodded.

“But then- If its normally private, why would you tell me your name?” He asked. Sure, the Phantom bit sort of made sense, he didn’t seem overly comfortable with all the titles in a more casual setting, but why give up his true name? They only just met.

Danny rubbed his neck again, looking embarrassed.

“Ah. That’s because, uh, I know yours? I didn’t mean to,” he assured hurriedly, like he was expecting Tim to slap him. “I didn’t know that’s how it would work. But since, regardless of how temporarily, I did own your soul, that means I know your full name. But I won’t use it, I promise!”

Tim looked at him closely. Outside of the throne room, and without the kingly persona he seemed to put on, he felt a lot more human. Less ethereal god-king, more awkward college student. Still an unfairly pretty college student, but much less mind-numbingly terrifying.

“You said you can’t use that name to control me?” He double checked. Danny shook his head, expression earnest.

“No, I promise. I can’t use it against you or anything like that.”

He could be lying.

He could be using any variety of magics right now to make Tim drop his guard. But… Tim believed him. And he’d been kind so far, even though he so clearly had enough power that Tim would be helpless against it. He was making an effort to explain things and seemed honestly sympathetic.

Tim shrugged, trying to appear casual.

“Then I don’t mind if you call me Tim. Although I often go by Red Robin as well if you want a public name to use.”

The gamble was worth it for the smile that lit up Danny’s face, and the way the small silver freckles in the shape of constellations on his cheeks started to glow. Tim couldn’t help matching the smile with a small one of his own and really hoped that his blush wasn’t visible.

They smiled at each other for another moment before Danny seemed to snap himself out of it, looking flustered, the stars on his cheeks practically shining.

“Right! Um. Oh, here’s the kitchen. Perfect, perfect. Ok, let’s see what food we have.”

Danny continued rambling as he brought them into the kitchen, holding a hand close to Tim’s back and gesturing forwards, as if to guide him, but being careful not to actually make contact.

Tim appreciated the courtesy. The whole thing reminded him of those romance books Jason always defended so loudly. The ones with all the subtlety, and decorum and courtly manners. Tim had never had the patience to read them himself but maybe he was starting to get the appeal.

When Danny held a hand out in front of them to gesture to a chair, Tim gently took the outstretched hand as he sat, as if he were being helped into a carriage or something.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling gently up at Danny as he released the hand.

Danny seemed to have frozen, his hand still outstretched for a second, before the stars on his cheeks flared and he spun on his heel, rambling about the merits of different foods as he stuck his head into the shockingly normal fridge.

Tim had to stifle a laugh into his hand.

Who knew the High King would be so easy to fluster. He was pretty sure those stars were the equivalent to a blush, which. Holy shit, that was so much cooler. And prettier.

This was a far cry from the imposing figure in the throne room, and Tim found himself relaxing for the first time since they were called in by the Justice League. He could handle trying to fluster a pretty boy making him lunch in a fairly normal looking kitchen.

By the time Danny had finished putting together some sandwiches, apparently the quickest thing he could make, he had managed to get his blush under control, the constellations almost invisible again. Tim planned to take that as a challenge.

Danny set two plates down at the table and sat down across from Tim, who tilted his head, curiosity momentarily overtaking mischievousness.

“Please forgive me if this is insensitive, but do ghosts need to eat the same kind of food as humans?”

Danny paused, looking at him in confusion for a second, before seeming to realise something and looking down at himself.

“Oh! No, not usually. I’m, uh. Something of a special case?”

He gazed at Tim consideringly for a long moment. Tim tried to put on his best ‘trustworthy and respectfully curious’ face. He’d never heard of ghosts even being a real thing before, apart from a few special cases that already didn’t fit with what he had seen here. No way was he giving up the chance to learn more about them.

Eventually, Danny looked back down at his sandwich and sighed, decision apparently made.

“Ok. Uh, so I’m not exactly a normal ghost? I’m what’s known as a halfa. Basically, I get all the normal ghost traits, but I also have-”

Rings of bright white light formed around Danny’s midsection splitting and travelling over his body to reveal-

“-a human form.”

Danny made a little ‘ta-da’ motion with his hands, before dropping them to fiddle with the sleeves of the hoodie he was now wearing.

Tim gaped for a moment, marvelling at the transformation, a thousand questions swirling in his head. Then he caught himself and slammed his jaw shut, sliding his plate towards him and deliberately trying to direct his attention off of the obviously anxious man in front of him.

“That’s amazing, Danny. Do you still have ghost powers in this form? I have to admit, I’ve never heard of a halfa before, but then again, I didn’t even know ghosts were real before today.” He took a bite of the sandwich, and holy shit food, deliberately keeping his posture relaxed and casual.

Danny looked up through his now black hair that had fallen over his face a little without anything to keep it floating. His eyes were still a little cautious, but his shoulders dropped down from his ears.

“Um, that makes sense, honestly. We’re pretty rare. I try not to make too big a thing of it when I’m dealing with people who aren’t from here. Like the demon who brought you, he probably didn’t know, but other ghosts can almost always tell just by looking at me.”

Tim nodded encouragingly, his mouth still full, and Danny uncurled a little more. As the conversation started to flow again, Danny explaining ghost powers and complaining about the annoying people he dealt with in court.

Tim interjected with questions occasionally, but for the most part focussed on inhaling his sandwich and studying the human ghost king.

He really fit the bill for a college student now. Gone were the white and black jumpsuit, space-line cloak, and floating crown. Instead, Danny was wearing jeans, beat up shoes and a faded NASA hoodie. His ethereal white hair and green eyes were a much more normal black and blue. Tim could easily have walked past him on street and not noticed anything supernatural about him.

He’d finished his sandwich at this point and was listening with his chin propped on one hand, a smile on his face, as Danny waved his arms frustratedly as he explained who the Observers were and why they were such pains in the ass.

Danny caught his eye and stopped his tirade, blushing. Yep, those stars were definitely how he blushed as a ghost. It was adorable.

“What?” He said, sounding a little embarrassed at Tim’s attention.

Tim only smiled wider, waving a hand dismissively.

“Nothing,” he assured Danny. “I like learning about this, it’s fascinating. I was just thinking…”

He trailed off, the smile fading from his face. He’d been thinking that Danny looked like the kind of boy Tim would have tried to go for coffee with if they’d both been normal college students instead of a vigilante and the Ghost King.

But that wasn’t real and pretending otherwise wouldn’t do him any good.

He liked Danny, he wanted to spend more time with him. But his family would be going insane over his kidnapping. He couldn’t stay here.

He lifted his gaze from his hands to meet Danny’s concerned one.

“…I need to go home, Danny.”

Danny winced, a grimace passing over his face, and Tim’s heartrate picked up a notch.

“I can go home, right?”

Danny bit his lip. Tim sat back in his chair, wariness starting to trickle back in.

“What, are you gonna tell me I’m not allowed? Why would you give me my soul back if you were just gonna-”

“No, no, you’re allowed, I promise!” Danny interrupted, waving his hands frantically. “You’re not a prisoner, I’m not going to try and trap you here. It’s just… logistically challenging, to actually get you home.”

Tim crossed his arms, less suspicious but far from comforted.

“Explain.”

Danny winced a little at the blunt tone but hurried to do as asked.

“Ok, so. The Infinite Realms, technically all the realms and worlds that exist are part of it, but there’s also the specific bit that people mean when they talk about going to the Infinite Realms. That’s where we are, where I’m from we called it the Ghost Zone. This is relevant, I promise!” He added as Tim’s stare started getting more intense.

“So, the ghost zone, it follows a lot of the same rules that a lot of afterlives do. Namely, it’s uh. It’s much easier for a mortal to get in, than it is for them to get out again.

Tim’s glare faltered as Danny kept talking.

“If you were one of my subjects, this would be easy. I could just make a portal for you and boom, done. But for living people, you either have to use a manmade portal, or go back the same way you came. But not all spells can be done in reverse, so there isn’t always a path back that someone can take.”

Tim’s arms had shifted from being sternly crossed to hugging himself.

“In your case, you came here from the demon realm, so I could send you back there, but you can’t go home that way. Manmade portals are incredibly rare, I only really know of one world that has figured them out, and I can normally tell when someone is from that world, and I don’t think you are. Since I don’t have any idea what world you came from, I don’t even know where I’m trying to return you to.”

“So- so what, I’m just stuck here?!” Tim grabbed at his hair, elbows leaning on the table, and tried to take deep breaths. “There’s no way to send me back home before I fucking die?!”

A gentle hand on his startled him, and he looked up to see that Danny had moved to the seat next to him. He gently pulled Tim’s hands out of his hair and settled them on the table, rubbing his thumb gently on the back of Tim’s hand.

“Not necessarily. Let’s call that a last resort plan, if we can’t find anything else and you die here, you’ll be able to give your family closure. But there’s lots of things we can try before that. Can you tell me more about how you were taken?”

Haltingly, Tim explained the events of the day before- had it really only been a day? He had to elaborate on a few points, Danny was apparently only passably familiar with the Justice League and its various members.

The whole time he talked, Danny didn’t let go of his hands.

“Ok, the way I see it we have a two main options. First of all, we can do more research here, talk to some of the other ghosts and look in the library. I’m pretty young for a ghost, so just because I haven’t heard of something doesn’t mean it’s impossible. I’ll introduce you to Clockwork, he’ll be frustratingly vague and cryptic the whole time, but he will help. We’ll see if we can find something to get you home.”

Tim nodded, latching onto to something to do, to not being impotent to his fate for once since being abducted.

“And the second?” he prodded.

“You said your Justice League had a number of magic users on it right?” Tim nodded. “Well, the other option would be to hope they reach out. If someone from your universe summons me, I’ll be able to take you through the portal they make. Of course, until then you would be free to stay with me as my honoured guest, for as long as it takes. I’m not gonna make you try and fend for yourself in an unfamiliar realm.”

Tim frowned. He knew that Justice League Dark was skilled enough to pull off that type of magic, but-

“But how would they know to summon you? I got taken by a demon, and they have no idea he gave me away. This only works if they summon you specifically, doesn’t it?”

Danny nodded, conceding his point.

“It’s a flaw to the plan, certainly. But they won’t be able to summon the demon while he’s in my dungeon, not that they probably know his name regardless. We just have to hope they think to take it up the chain, so to speak.”

Tim bit his lip. He was a little sceptical of the plan, it seemed far too subject to luck, to relying on decisions from people he didn’t know well enough to predict.

Danny, apparently seeing the doubt on his face and judging that he was no longer in imminent danger of a panic attack, snorted and leaned back in his chair.

“Tell you what, how about we make a bet which option works to get you home.”

Tim narrowed his eyes, leaning back to match Danny’s posture.

“A bet?” he asked, letting his doubt infuse every word. He had just had a very memorable lesson on the dangers of dealing with supernatural beings, after all.

Danny just laughed again and waved a hand.

“Not like that, I’m not going to try and win your soul off you again, and we’ll still do the research and try to get you back even if you don’t take the bet, there’s no pressure.”

Tim was still suspicious, but Danny hadn’t lied to him yet. That he knew of.

“Tell me what it is first, then I’ll decide.”

Danny grinned.

“Smart. Ok, so. We bet on which method will get you home the quickest. You don’t look like you want to rely on someone else summoning me, so you bet on the research, and I’ll bet on your friends. Am I right on that front?”

Tim nodded. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the JLD or lacked faith in their abilities. It just rankled at him to rely entirely on people he barely knew.

“So, if you win, you get- hmm…” Danny tapped his chin thoughtfully. “How about a favour? At any point, you can call on me and I’ll grant you one favour. Anything within my power that does not harm what I hold dear.”

Tim’s eyes widened. That was no small ask, even with the addendum. He might not have known Danny for long, but he had felt the level of power the guy had. Anything within his power covered a lot of ground, especially considering the added political power that must come with his title.

Tim gulped. What was he supposed to offer that would match that?

“And if you win?” he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

Danny leaned forward on his elbows, a wide grin on his face and his eyes sparkling.

“Go on a date with me.”

Tim bluescreened.

Gaped open-mouthed at the all-powerful king in front of him wearing a shit eating grin that suggested this was exactly the reaction he was going for. The king that wanted to date him for some reason.

“Huh? ”

Sure, Tim had been enjoying teasing the other man, but he’d very away that Danny was so far out of his league that nothing would come of it.

“You. Me. One date.” Danny was still smirking. “Although I’d be open to more if the first goes well.”

Tim forcefully wrenched his thoughts back in order. No, he was not letting the pretty boy get to him. He had to be careful, he was not letting himself get tricked and this deal felt far too good to be true.

“Just a normal date? With no strings attached or loopholes? I’m not going to find that one coffee date lasted ten years by the time I get back, am I?”

Danny shook his head, smug smile shifting to look more fond.

“Nope. No tricks, loopholes, clever wording or scheming. I’m not a fae. Just one date, whatever you want that to look like. I’ll give you a way to call me, and then you can take me to your favourite coffee shop for half an hour, or go for a romantic weekend trip, or just stay in and watch a movie. Whatever you want, it’ll count to pay off the debt.”

Tim narrowed his eyes at Danny’s stubbornly open and sincere face. He couldn’t find a catch, no tricks in the wording or anything, but there was no way this was a balanced exchange.

It might be worth it though, to get that favour, even if there was a trick he was missing. In his line of work having something like that in his back pocket could save countless lives. Even if Phantom was tricking him about the date, he would still be leaving this encounter with more than he started with.

“And no cheating by not trying properly with the research?” He had to check, trying to cover all his bases even if he already knew what his answer would be. By the looks of his grin Danny already knew as well.

“Nope. I will try everything I can think of to get you home, even if I hope your friends manage it first.”

Tim sighed and held out his hand.

“Alright then, I’ll take that bet.” Danny’s grin widened and he reached out to shake Tim’s hand. “Your majesty.” Tim tacked on with a smirk, just for the way it made Danny lose the grin and groan.

“You’re impossible.” Danny muttered, trying and completely failing to look genuinely annoyed. “Where would you like to start? Library or asking around?”

Tim opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by his stomach growling loudly.

“Uh, maybe we could start with another sandwich?” he muttered, blushing as Danny had the audacity to laugh at him.

“But of course, your wish is my command.” Danny said, with an overly dramatic bow.

“Oh, shut up.” Tim said, daring to shove his face away and utterly failing to keep the grin off his face.

Danny laughed and walked back over to the fridge. Tim rested his chin back on his palm and listened as Danny ran down a list of ghosts that he thought might be able, and more importantly willing, to answer their questions.

Things might be a long way from ok, but they were also a hell of a lot better than they had been this morning.

Chapter Text

Jason was ready to shoot someone if this took much longer.

He’d started pacing ten minutes ago, unable to stand the tension of watching Constantine slowly set up the overly complicated circle in a room full of wildly stressed bats.

Batman had told them they were going to attempt the ritual at noon. That they didn’t need to be here while it was set up.

Yeah fucking right.

Like hell was Jason missing even a second of this. What, he was just supposed to go twiddle his thumbs, maybe read a book, take a nap, while Tim was still trapped in hell.

No way. He was staying right here, even if he didn’t know shit about magic and was probably getting in the way. At least he could pretend he was helping Tim by being here. Clearly the rest of the bats felt the same, since pretty much the whole roster was here.

Dick huffed when he walked past him again and grabbed his wrist to pull him down where he and the demon brat were leant against the wall. Jason scowled as he was pulled into the pile, Dick’s arm resting around his shoulders.

“Fuck off, Dickhead.” He growled, shoulders tense.

“Nope. You’re gonna wear a hole in the floor if you keep that up.” Dick replied, his normal annoying cheeriness sounding rather strained. He lowered his voice, “We’ll get him back, Jaybird.”

Jason huffed, shoulders slumping.

“Of course we will, you idiot.” He grumbled, not sure which one of them he was trying to reassure.

Dick just hummed and leaned to rest his head against Jason’s shoulder.

“You’re a fucking octopus.” Jason muttered but didn’t put up more than a token protest to the affection. He wasn’t about to deny either of them the comfort right now.

It had been a week.

A week since a normal debrief had turned into a nightmare, a literal demon coming to steal their baby brother away from them.

A week since they had learned Tim’s parents were so much shittier than any of them had ever thought and had sold their fucking kid before he was even born. Jason had seriously considered getting Constantine to go through with the necromancy plan, just for the chance to deck them both in the fucking face.

A week since he had seen his little brother bound, silenced and fucking collared with a word. Had seen him forced to fight against their dad when he tried to save him.

A week since Jason had met Tim’s terrified eyes as he was dragged through the portal and had been too late to save him.

God, was this how B felt when Jason died?

All of the bats had been running themselves ragged since Tim’s kidnapping. They’d started trying to help Constantine, but he’d made clear that none of them had any idea how to actually be helpful and that all they were doing was slowing him down.

So instead, they’d been patrolling the city enough that all kinds of rumours were flying around, and the streets were quieter than he’d ever seen them. They were staying out until they were fit to collapse before making their way home to finally pass out before doing it all again.

It was hardly a healthy coping mechanism, and Alfred had tutted at them plenty, but Jason had also spent a good while stress baking with the man, and the manor was cleaner than Jason had ever seen it. The situation was hitting all of them hard.

He just- he couldn’t sleep, wondering what Tim could be going through.

Constantine had said it was unusual for a demon to collect a soul like that. Normally they claimed it right when the deal was made or once the person died. For a first born, he said the demon claimed the baby right when they were born in all the records he could find.

Without the contract the Drakes signed they had no way of knowing what the condition might have been, but such a random time could suggest that the demon was breaking tradition because he needed Tim for something.

The thought made Jason feel sick. He could think of no good reason for a demon to need his little brother.

Tim had been missing for a week, had been in literal hell. Who knew what was being done to him? Who knew what kind of horrible pain and suffering they could be putting him through.

Was he scared? Did he know they were coming for him? Was he even still alive?

Jason was broken out of the spiral he had spent so much time in for the last week by the thud of Constantine dropping the thick book he had been looking at onto a table. The magician wiped his brow, surveying his work on the elaborate circle spread in front of him.

“Alright. I reckon that’ll do it.”

Jason sat up straight, the other bats perking up as well. It was ready? They were doing this?

“It’s done?” Bruce growled from the shadowing corner he was lurking in.

Constantine nodded, ferreting around in the bag he’d brought with him, gathering up various random looking items.

“Yup. Am I doing this now or do you lot have more gawpers coming?”

Jason wanted to growl at that, fucking forgive them for being worried about their little brother being stuck in hell- but held his tongue. Barely. He’d pissed off Constantine enough this week, and it wasn’t like the rest of them would be able to do this spell. Or even understand quite what was being done.

Constantine had explained it, when he first found the ritual, but he’d just come off a three-day research binge with almost no sleep and he’d been barely coherent. From what Jason could gather amongst the waving arms, constant swearing and accent that had thickened to the point where you could cut it with a knife, they were calling the demon’s manager.

Or something.

Since they didn’t know the demon’s name, they were going to call someone who was guaranteed to have jurisdiction over any demon. The boss’s boss. Someone even Constantine was apparently leery of messing with, but who was the only option he could come up with.

Jason had heard the official title at some point, but honestly all those long-winded names that sounded right out of a trashy fantasy book that always showed up when talking about the supernatural went right over his head.

Some kind of king. Should be able to order the demon around. That was enough for Jason.

“This is everyone. Is there anything we need to do?” Batman answered, taking a step forward. He looked just as stoic and grave as normal, unless you knew him well enough to stop the clenched hands and tension in his jaw. B was scared.

“Nah, just stay back. Don’t step on the circle whatever you do. And keep your mouths shut if you don’t know what you’re doing. If we piss this guy off, we’ll all have bigger problems than your missing birdie.”

Constantine was too professional to let his hands shake during a ritual, but now that Jason was looking, he could see a stiffness to the man’s posture, a deliberateness to his breathing.

Shit, Constantine was freaking out as well.

Jason gulped, untangling himself from Dick and rising to his feet. He stayed against the wall, but he wanted to be ready if this went south. After a beat his siblings followed suit.

Constantine started the ritual, lighting the candles and chanting with his arms outstretched. Jason was pretty sure it was Latin, but there were a few phrases in there that didn’t seem to match.

As the flames of the candles started to grow, Jason couldn’t help but start thinking of all the ways this could go wrong. While he’d been around for the initial explanation, he’d been out dealing with a trafficking case when B and Constantine had their little meeting to hammer out the actual details of the ritual. He’d just woken up this morning to a message from Barbie with the time and place.

What exactly were they offering in this ritual?

Sure, it was all well and good to ask the demon’s boss to make it give back Timmy, but Jason was pretty sure that wouldn’t happen for free, if the king agreed at all.

What was it gonna demand for Tim’s safe return? And could they afford to pay it?

Don’t get him wrong, Jason would happily give up his own soul to get Tim back. But sacrificing one of the others would be unacceptable, and he hadn’t been the one to make this plan.

He glanced sideways at his siblings. Dick was biting his nails, Steph was clutching Cass’s hand and Damian was gripping the hilt of the knife he wasn’t supposed to have.

Dick and Cass had been at the planning session. They wouldn’t have let B do something stupid, right? There was probably some other valuable thing that Constantine knew the king would want, and B had just used his stupid-rich-person powers to get it. No reason to stress.

…but Constantine seemed really scared to piss this guy off.

And if he was a big enough deal that he was for sure gonna be in charge of the demon that apparently was no small fry, just how powerful would he be? How much would they actually be able to do against him if he decided he didn’t like their vibe?

Maybe Jason would have to scrap his secret back-up plan of threatening to shoot the guy if he didn’t agree.

More and more this was seemingly like a really fucking dangerous plan, but Jason couldn’t bring himself to regret the decisions they’d made. It would be worth it, if they could just get Tim back alive. Or even if he was already dead, they could still free his spirit from the demon’s clutches.

Jason watched as the circle started to glow, a brilliant green that made him tense automatically, even if it was a few shades off the Lazarus pits. He saw Damian tense as well, and Dick drop a hand on the kid’s shoulder.

Constantine’s chanting grew louder and louder, until the man was shouting, arms trembling and sweat dripping down his forehead.

The circle glowed brighter and brighter, until there was a sound like tearing cloth and a flash of light so bright Jason had to look away.

When he managed to blink the spots out of his eyes he couldn’t help gaping. Constantine was panting in front of the circle, his hands resting on his knees.

Inside the circle was a glowing portal, swirling and hovering slightly off the ground. Like the one they had seen in the watchtower, but this one was a brilliant shimmering green.

As Jason stared, the surface rippled, causing Constantine to tense and straighten, which instantly put the rest of them on guard. Then, from the surface of the portal emerged a white booted foot.

It was quickly followed by a leg, and then the rest of the body, this person stepping casually out of the portal and stopping in the centre of the circle to glance around the room, seemingly unbothered by its occupants.

And why should he be, Jason thought, shuddering as he felt the power radiating off what must be the king in question. Jason was really regretting making fun of this guy’s many titles now, from the looks of things he’d earned every last one.

Jason had to wrench his gaze away from the crown that hovered over the being’s floating white hair, struggling with the urge to bow for some reason. Which was insane, he was the Red Hood, he didn’t bow to anyone. This guy might be a king, but that didn’t make him Jason’s king, no way.

Constantine cleared his throat, drawing the king’s glowing green eyes to face him, and addressed the king in a voice that only shook a little.

“Your majesty, High King Phantom. We have summoned you today to humbly beg your assistance. Our associate has been taken from us by one of your subordinates, and we ask for your aid in bringing him home.”

The king, King Phantom apparently, had narrowed his eyes as Constantine spoke, tilting his head slightly. He stared at the squirming magician for a moment that seemed to drag forever, the tension racking up as they waited for a response with bated breath.

Then realisation seemed to hit Phantom, and a smile spread across his face. His teeth were too pointed for Jason to find it reassuring.

“Oh, is this about Red Robin?”

Everyone in the room froze, no idea how to react. Why would the Phantom already know about Tim, what had happened to Tim for him to catch the king’s attention? Was this a good thing? Or did it mean Phantom would refuse to-

“Gimme a sec.”

Phantom turned and stepped back to the portal. With one hand he reached into it, seeming to look for something. Then he hauled his arm back, dragging a figure out through the portal by the back of their collar and sending them sprawling on the floor.

The figure pushed themselves up on their elbows, spluttering up at the now grinning King.

“What the fuck was that for?! I was in the middle of-” the man ranted, blue eyes glaring at Phantom, pushing the black hair that had fallen into his eyes out of the way, almost like-

“Tim?”

He couldn’t tell you which one of them said it, it was barely a whisper, a desperate prayer thrown out to please let this be real. Tim froze at the sound, slowly turning his head to where they were all standing against the wall.

He stared, gaping at them.

“Holy shit.”

Tim’s whisper seemed to break the spell over the room, Jason and his siblings throwing themselves at Tim, knocking him back to the floor with the force of their hugs, desperate to confirm that this was really him, he was really here.

“Timmy, oh my god.”

“God, don’t do that to us, baby bird.”

“Are you ok? You’re not hurt?”

Tim hugged them tightly back, patting at whoever he could reach, trying to reassure them.

“I’m fine guys, I promise. Holy shit I missed you guys so much.” His voice got a little watery towards the end, which immediately led to Dick losing the battle against his own tears.

The tearful reunion was interrupted by Constantine speaking warily.

“We are most thankful to you, your majesty. What price would you demand for you aid?”

They looked up to where Phantom was still standing in the circle, looking at them with an expression that Jason would almost call fond. He turned his attention back to Constantine when he spoke, and Jason couldn’t help noticing that Bruce had moved to position himself between Phantom and his kids.

Before Jason could get worked up again about what they might have to pay for this miracle, Phantom just waved his hand dismissively.

“No charge. Red Robin’s abduction went against the laws of my realm. The perpetrator is facing punishment, and I was already working with Red Robin to return him home when I received your summons.”

Constantine sagged and Jason let out a breath. Holy shit. No way could they really be this lucky, right?

As if to prove his point, Tim chose that moment to speak up, addressing Phantom from the middle of the sibling pile.

“I guess that means you won the bet then.”

Ice flooding Jason’s veins and he clutched his baby brother closer to him. Bet? What bet? Please let Tim not be stupid enough to have made a bet with the supernatural king.

Unfortunately, it seemed Tim was exactly that stupid because the king smile widened to a grin at the observation.

“I guess I did. Here.” He gently tossed a small object towards Tim, who stuck an arm out from his siblings and caught it. It looked like a marble, black and filled with tiny green dots that twinkled like stars. “When you’re ready, just speak my true name while holding that and it will call me to you.”

What the hell did that mean, why would Tim be calling him anywhere. Oh god, what did his idiot brother agree to. Why did he apparently know the king’s true name, that sounded like a big deal.

But Tim didn’t look anxious or afraid at the prospect. No, he looked almost… excited? And shy in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen on Tim’s face before.

“Thanks, Phantom. I’ll see you around then?”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.” Phantom said, bowing to Tim with a twinkle of mirth shining in his eye.

Then he nodded at the rest of the bats and Constantine and turned with a flare of his cape to step through the portal, which blinked out of existence behind him. The glowing lines of the circle faded back to regular chalk.

They all let out a collective sigh of relief, before turning to look at Tim, who was- was that a blush? Jason narrowed his eyes. Why would Tim be blushing at that? And what had he agreed to in the bet? Unless-

Steph beat him to it, gasping dramatically and poking at Tim’s red cheeks.

“What did you agree to that’s got you so flustered, hmm? Oh my god, you LIKE him, don’t you! Is that what the marble’s for? Taking him on a daaaate?” Steph teased, doing what she did best and breaking the tension with light-hearted jokes and some friendly teasing.

Tim though, instead of the expected dramatic denials, blushed harder and very studiously avoided eye contact.

They all gaped at him.

“Wait, seriously? ”

“TIMOTHY JACKSON DRAKE!”

“Holy shit!”

“Nice going, Timmy!”

The room descended into chaos, everyone talking over each other trying to get answers out of the still blushing Tim. Constantine looked more than ready to be done with this shit and had started packing up his supplies, muttering to himself. Bruce was still standing in the middle of the room, staring into the middle distance in that way he always did when he was regretting having children.

Jason took a second to let go of the tension he’d been holding for the last week and revel in the relief of having his little brother safe in his arms. Home and unhurt.

Then he let a shit eating grin spread across his face and added his voice to the interrogation. No way was he letting Tim wriggle his way out of this. Who the hell got their soul stolen and came back with a date to the fucking ghost king.

The little shit was never living this down.